User blog:Brigadier Barty/The Greatest Threat

WORK IN PROGRESS

An Introduction
Larson heaved the chest out of the wall cavity and placed it slowly upon the stone floor. With the most utmost respect and professionalism, Captain Ottis Greenbank bent down and dug his fingers into the thin opening between the chest's top and lower rim. And pulled.

With a long, drawn-out creak that bespoke of times immemorial, the rotting wooden top pulled away, revealing the age-ravaged contents within.

As his companions watched intently, one leaning in closer to shed lanternlight over the chest's insides, the vole sifted through the ancient objects, setting aside crumbling books and papers, some with strange names and dates the vole didn't recognize. A silver candlestick and a necklace of beads were removed and placed in an awaiting sack. A cob of moth-eaten tapestry, depicting some old warrior or another, was bundled up and tossed in there as well. A pair of badly-worm-eaten sandals were tossed disgustedly aside.

Finally, as he peeled a thin skin of rag aside, Ottis found it.

Paws trembling slightly, he lifted the beautiful weapon out of the place that had hidden it away for so many long, far-gone seasons. He fondled the handle's lightly-decomposed black leather, kissed its ruby pommel. The vole finally raised the sword, admiring the way the lantern light played upon the blade. Then, just as Larson made to extend a paw and touch the legendary weapon himself, Ottis pulled the sword back and slid it into the sack.

The otter's face fell, as did the those of the others who were unable to experience the blade for themselves. The squirrel holding the plunder from that section of the ruins shrugged unhappily. "Moving on?"

"Nay. We leave now. Shedd Whilfe'll want t' see wot we've managed to scratch out of that hollowed-out wall."

Moving quickly, the five creatures made their way out of Redwall Abbey, the empty Great Hall sounding large and lonely as the pawsteps of its plundering visitors faded off into the night.

An Explanation
200 seasons past, Redwall Abbey fell to vermin forces. Rather than repeat the mistakes of past conquering warlords, the army commander ordered the Abbey burnt and all the residents who hadn't fallen in battle or escaped the Abbey prior executed. Undefended, Mossflower Country was ravaged by the invaders. And then they moved on.

Horrified at his inability to defend Redwall's creatures, the Badgerlord of Salamandastron, fresh out of his own war, returned to Redwall Abbey and had a memorial built there for all those who had fallen. The ruins were left untouched, and the dead were buried. Vowing to right Mossflower's wrongs as well as those in the South and West, the badger ruler increased Long Patrol recruitment and installed a fortress and several outposts throughout the woodland. His General was placed in command of all Mossflower Long Patrol branches, and the Lord returned home.

These strongholds eventually grew mighty in strength as the ranks of the Mossflower branch opened up to allow otters, squirrels, hedgehogs, mice, and all others willing to lay down their lives to defend the innocent of the world and destroy evil.

Faced with so many soldiers, vermin began to disappear from Mossflower entirely, either dying at this other Long Patrol's paws or fleeing North, South, East and West. Trade boomed upon the High Seas and island communities flourished as more and more creatures took up the Corsairing or Sea Raiding life, and great vermin kingdoms rose in the lands far from Mossflower, swelling with new members.

And Mossflower Country seemed finally at peace and harmony, though oftentimes many a creature could recall staring towards the forlorn ruins of Redwall.

But as the Tales once taught, peace was never meant to be forever.

Upon the eve of the 160th season since the destruction of the Abbey of Redwall, a hare would recall looking out towards the Sea and seeing nothing but ships, from the Western Coast to the far-off horizon.